


Comfort in the Panic

by JennaTalbot



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mr. and Mrs. Gansey (mentioned), Panic Attacks, referenced homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 21:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14723946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaTalbot/pseuds/JennaTalbot
Summary: When Gansey has a panic attack, Ronan is there to put the pieces back together with duct tape and a prayer





	Comfort in the Panic

Gansey jolted upright, ripped from the tenuous hold that he had on sleep. Breathing heavily, he tucked his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, pressing in on himself. 

_ Breathe, breathe, it’s okay, you’re alive, breathe— _

The mantra never really helped, but Gansey didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t calming, but the routine was grounding. He repeated it over and over in his mind, aware enough to realize that he was shaking. He groped around on his bedside table for his glasses, and in the process managed to knock over an empty glass, which crashed to the floor. Gansey winced and glanced towards Ronan’s door.

Sure enough, after a few moments the door yawned open and Ronan stood in its place, silhouetted in the shadows. “Are you dying?”   


Gansey let out a shaky laugh. “Not at this precise moment, no.” He tried to keep his voice light, but Ronan’s lack of an immediate response indicated that he failed on that front. He couldn’t see Ronan’s face, but he could picture the raised eyebrow. Ronan’s shadow left his door frame as he padded over to Gansey’s bed, where he settled down and stared at the ceiling. “Bad dream?”

Gansey knew that Ronan was no stranger to nightmares, his own as well as Gansey’s. He hummed noncommittally, and Ronan rolled over so they were facing each other. After a minute under his gaze, Gansey relented. 

“It was the bees again. They aren’t usually this bad, but I didn’t wake up before I—”

Ronan’s gaze softened, and he held his arms open. Gansey settled in between them, taking comfort from Ronan’s warmth, the routine familiar and reassuring. 

Gansey could feel something different about this night, or maybe it was something different about Ronan on this night. He reached up and touched Ronan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

That intense blue gaze was turned back to Gansey then, and Gansey thought he might fall apart under it. He couldn’t read the emotions in Ronan’s eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.”   
  
Gansey huffed. Of course he was going to worry, especially if that meant he could stop thinking about his own troubles for a little while. “Ronan, what is it?”

“What are we doing, Gansey?” Ronan asked, without missing a beat.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific,” Gansey replied, confused. He wasn’t sure what Ronan was referring to. Or rather, he did, but he didn’t know what words Ronan wanted to hear. Gansey actually had no idea what they were doing, and he tried very hard not to think about it too much. He knew he liked it and didn’t want it to stop, but he also knew there was a very high likelihood that he was pushing his luck.  

Ronan made a sound of frustration, and then leaned forward, letting his lips meet Gansey’s.   

Gansey let out a little moan as Ronan kissed him, and something finally clicked into place. With just one motion, Ronan had righted a piece of Gansey’s world that he hadn’t realized was off kilter. He softened, kissing Ronan back before realization set in. He pulled away sharply. 

The familiar prickling panic fell over him like a thick blanket, muffling his senses and causing his heart to beat erratically. He pushed away from Ronan and scrambled backwards, feeling the world give out from underneath him.

Dimly, a portion of his brain understood that the world  _ had _ fallen away—Gansey had fallen off of the bed and was now in a heap on the floor. He thought maybe he heard Ronan saying something, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything over the sudden buzzing roar in his ears. 

His vision swam in and out and he couldn’t see anything until his view was filled by blue. The blue demanded Gansey’s attention, and with a monumental effort, he forced his uncertain gaze to focus, he just needed to focus, if he could just—  

_ There.  _

Gansey blinked as he finally managed to focus and realized that the blue in front of him was Ronan. Ronan was kneeling in front of him on the floor and he was saying something, and Gansey knew he needed to listen, he needed to hear this, Ronan needed him to hear this, but it was too loud  _ too loud—  _

“Gansey.”

One single word managed to pierce through the cacophony and Gansey grabbed onto it like a lifeline, as if he would drown without it. Like he might still anyways.  

His arm exploded with warmth and his never endings were suddenly on fire. With effort, Gansey looked down. He was aware that his reflexes were slow and he felt like he was swimming through molasses, but he persisted. There was a hand on his arm, and Gansey immediately felt grounded. He was real and someone was touching him and he was here—no no no wait that was wrong, that was Ronan’s hand and Gansey couldn’t, he shouldn’t —  

He pulled away again and tried to say no, but he wasn’t sure if the words came out. He still couldn’t  _ hear _ anything. 

“Okay, okay, easy, Gansey,” the voice said again, and this time Gansey could make out the words. He focused on that. He needed more, he needed to hear. 

“Keep talking,” Gansey rasped out. “Please.”

Thankfully, Ronan obliged. Gansey could only make out what was being said every few words, but the consistency was enough to help him settle. Eventually, his breathing slowed and his heart returned to a reliable, if a bit elevated, rhythm. 

“Gansey.”

Now that the blanket of panic that had dulled his senses was lifted, it was replaced by something else even more disagreeable. Guilt and shame flooded every pore and Gansey couldn’t bring himself to look in Ronan’s direction. 

“Gansey, please?”

The question in Ronan’s voice got him. Ronan never did anything he wasn’t sure of. Uncertainty was a feeling for people who weren’t Ronan Lynch. 

He knew he was clear from sinking back into another panic attack, but this one had left him too raw for what he saw on Ronan’s face.  

Ronan’s sapphire eyes were a swirl of emotions that would have knocked Gansey over, had he not already been sitting heavily on the floor against his bed. In their abnormally wide state, Gansey could see the concern and the fear and the uncertainty, and something else that took a minute for Gansey to place. It was a look of disgust, that look of self-loathing that Ronan often wore like a favorite shirt. Only now, Gansey mused, it wouldn’t be Ronan hating Ronan, it would be Ronan hating Gansey. And Gansey couldn’t blame him. 

Belatedly, he realized that he had been silent for too long and that Ronan was still looking at him, the plea hanging on his lips. He had probably repeated it multiple times. “I’m sorry,” Gansey mumbled.

Ronan shook his head. “I don’t need apologies, Gansey. But what the fuck was that?” 

He was angry, of course he was angry. Gansey couldn’t hold that against him. Ronan deserved to be angry. 

“Ah, panic attack.”

“Obviously,” Ronan snorted, his voice sharper with his heightened emotions. 

Gansey bit his lip. He wasn’t sure what had happened either. They had been in bed and things were fine and then Ronan had kissed—oh. Ronan had kissed him, and Gansey had kissed him back. 

“Ronan—” Gansey started, but he was cut off by the other boy’s anger.

“Things were fine, I thought they were  _ good _ , and then all of a sudden… Gansey, you fell off of the bed to get away from me.” The hurt in Ronan’s voice was plain, and Gansey was struck with a sick realization. Ronan was mad, but he was mad at himself.

And that was worse than any panic attack. 

“No!” It came out more like a yelp than Gansey had intended, but Ronan had just seen him at his worst and hadn’t left yet, so Gansey couldn’t find it in himself to be more embarrassed than he already was. 

“Ronan, no, Jesus—it’s not you.” He took a deep breath. “I probably should have told you this a long time ago but… it didn’t really apply, I didn’t think it was relevant. But… clearly I was wrong.”

“You know you can tell me anything,” Ronan said, and he didn’t look happy that he had to say it. 

Gansey hesitated. “I know.”

 

 — —  — — 

 

That look of vacant horror that had been fixed on Gansey’s face was gone, but Ronan wasn’t sure his look of anguish was any better. It was less terrifying, at least, but it still made Ronan’s heart clench in ways he didn’t want to think about. 

“You can tell me anything,” he repeated, trying to keep his voice light and failing completely, which seemed to be a theme for the two of them tonight. 

Gansey leveled his gaze on him, and Ronan could see the dilemma on his face. Whatever it was, Gansey  _ wanted  _ to tell him, but something was holding him back. Ronan knew he shouldn’t push, but this didn’t seem like something he should let Gansey deal with alone. It had happened when Ronan had kissed him, so Ronan felt he was at least partially responsible. He needed to know what he was up against in order to help Gansey deal with it. A reprehensible part of him felt that he deserved answers after this. He wanted to scream and swear and  _ demand _ that Gansey tell him why he wasn’t enough.  

“Gansey. Please,” he tried one final time. Ronan resolved himself to drop it if Gansey didn’t take the bait. 

He watched as Gansey took a deep shuddering breath. “I uh, don’t know where to start,” Gansey admitted. 

“At the beginning?” Ronan suggested. He knew it wasn’t a helpful answer, but maybe those three words would convey that Ronan was here and he was willing to listen. He needed to listen.

Gansey clenched and unclenched his jaw. He had unshed tears in his eyes that made Ronan’s heart drop. “I’m going to start with another apology. Ronan, I’m so sorry.”

Ronan just nodded, sensing that Gansey wasn’t done. 

“I guess… it goes back to when I was younger. Before… before Glendower.”

Ronan knew that Gansey couldn’t say the words ‘before I died’ and nodded again. Before continuing, Gansey drew his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around them, shrinking before Ronan’s eyes. 

“My parents tried their best, telling me that I was going to grow up and be rich, find a nice woman, settle down, have kids, and that I would live their version of a perfect life. But I didn’t want that. Any of it,” Gansey added after a slight pause, glancing at Ronan for a brief second. 

Ronan’s breath caught in his throat. 

“After Glendower, I didn’t really… know what I was doing. I didn’t have any friends, but that was alright. No one really understood the need that I had to chase myths of a long dead Welsh king. ’But you’re not even Welsh!’ they would tell me. And it was lonely.”

Gansey’s face looked haunted, and Ronan knew he wasn’t going to like wherever this story was headed.  

“One evening, we were at a gala held in honor of the mayoral candidates. My mom was running, and Helen and I had been dressed up and given instructions to be charming. I think, perhaps, I was too charming towards one particular boy—the son of my mom’s biggest opposition. He was... well, he was attractive, and we were both teenage boys, and one thing led to another. 

We had found an empty room, only, it didn’t stay as empty as we would have liked. We were just sitting on the bed kissing, and it was awkward as hell anyways, when his mother walked in on us. She grabbed the both of us and hauled us into the hallway, screeching and generally causing a scene.”

Gansey’s voice sounded dangerously detached, and Ronan felt a bit sick. 

“My mom didn’t win that election, and it was a very long time before I heard the end of it,” Gansey continued. He had been staring blankly at the wall, but now he lowered his head so his face was between his knees. 

“The lecture I got after that… It was the only time my dad ever hit me. He thought I needed to see someone, to fix whatever was broken in me. Mom spent the time blaming herself, convinced that she had failed me somehow. I’m still not sure which was worse to deal with. I did my best to just… bury that piece of me, and kept it hidden in the shadows. For a while, I genuinely forgot about it. Or at least, I forgot to think about it. After that, it became a joke of sorts, to bring up at dinner every so often. ‘Oh, Dick, remember when you were a young and silly child? Thank goodness that phase is over with!’” Gansey did a spot on imitation of his mom. 

Ronan could feel his blood boiling.

“The worst was when we were attending another charity event, and  _ he _ was going to be present. My dad didn’t so much threaten me as told me under no uncertain terms was I to speak to him.”

Ronan could picture it. He had spent enough time with the Ganseys that he knew their ways of speaking, their mannerisms. Richard Gansey II and his wife were incredibly similar in that regard. Insults and threats were masked with polite pleasantries and volleyed back and forth like a match of tennis. Ronan himself had been on the receiving end of Mrs. Gansey’s poisonously veiled barbs, like one of those gorgeous, colorful plants that hid deadly toxins, and had gotten the brunt of Mr. Gansey’s rebukes complete with a disingenuous smile and a clap on the shoulder in some twisted sense of familial solidarity. 

Ronan knew the Ganseys were a force to be reckoned with. They never said what they meant, but made their meanings clear all the same under pretty words and bright eyes and facsimile smiles. Ronan had never stopped to think about a young Gansey having to grow up with that, and as he blinked, a lot of things about his best friend came into sharper focus. 

“That was one of the deciding factors in me running off to England,” Gansey admitted, and he sounded tired. He sounded defeated, and Ronan didn’t like that. “I couldn’t stand to be in their house anymore.”

Gansey hadn’t called the Gansey manor ‘home,’ and that fact did not escape Ronan. 

“I thought that I was over this, but then tonight happened, and you, and I just—” Gansey cut off, his head still buried in his knees.  

“I’m sorry,” Ronan said once he managed to find his voice and suppress the violent outbursts threatening to explode from him. “I didn’t know.”

Ronan felt the anger he had just repressed stir up again at that admission. He didn’t know, but he should have. He wasn’t upset that Gansey hadn’t told him, not really. But he was supposed to be Gansey’s best friend, and he should have  _ known _ . Ronan had  _ been _ to dinner at the Ganseys, he had _ heard _ those lowkey homophobic jibes firsthand, but he had never connected the dots. 

Gansey shook his head. “I know. I never… I couldn’t… and then I started to feel more for you and I just… I was hoping to will it away.”

“Oh,” Ronan said stupidly. Gansey really did have feelings for him. It wasn’t that Ronan wasn’t enough. It was that Ronan was too much. 

Gansey looked up quickly, terror on his face. “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s not that I regret my feelings, I just—”

“Gansey, no, you misunderstood me,” Ronan cut Gansey off swiftly once he saw where that train of thought was headed. Hopefully, he could do enough damage control. “I just meant that I wasn’t sure how you felt. About me. And you just admitted that you did. Like me. And I like you too.”

“Oh,” Gansey mimicked.

Ronan hesitated for a moment and then scooted across the floor so he was next to Gansey, but not touching him. For a long moment that stretched seemingly into infinity, Gansey was perfectly still. Ronan watched as he fought some inner battle with himself, the discomfort written clearly across Gansey’s face. 

Finally, Gansey let out a little sigh and let his head fall to rest on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan waited a few moments before leaning into Gansey, letting their sides touch, and making sure to move as slowly as he could and give Gansey time to pull away. But once Ronan rested against him, Gansey moved to snuggle in even closer. 

Ronan turned his head slightly to rest his chin on Gansey’s hair, and the other boy hummed. They sat like that until Ronan’s muscles began to get stiff, but he didn’t dare move. This was more important than his slight discomfort from sitting on the floor for so long. Gansey was more important. 

“You deserve someone better,” Gansey whispered suddenly.

Ronan blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

The weariness in Gansey’s voice was palpable. “You deserve to be with someone who’s not… whatever I am. Afraid. Broken. A liar. You deserve to be with someone who can admit who they are.”

That last bit gave Ronan pause. He supposed Gansey was a liar. He had told his parents that his sexuality was just a phase and that it was over. He had sat and smiled his way through homophobic dinners and parties and never spoke up or spoke out. 

Ronan also knew Gansey only brought that up now because he thought it would drive Ronan away. 

“Gansey, since I met you, there hasn’t been anyone else. I don’t think there will be anyone else. I’m not going anywhere.” The words didn’t feel like enough, but they were the only ones Ronan had. 

He could feel Gansey’s breath against his shoulder, and Ronan allowed himself some relief in the fact that it was still even, and not his ragged gasps from before. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Gansey mumbled.

Ronan laughed, but kept it as light as he could. “I would be more worried if you thought you did.”

Gansey huffed and nuzzled deeper into Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan bit his lip, and then stretched his arm out onto Gansey’s leg.

“Is this okay?” He asked, not wanting a repeat of earlier. 

“Yeah,” Gansey breathed back. He was practically slumped against Ronan now, as if Ronan was the only thing holding him up. Which, Ronan figured, he probably was. 

“Gansey, you should sleep,” Ronan suggested. He’d never had a panic attack, but Ronan knew firsthand how exhausting extreme emotions could be, and he imagined that this qualified. 

Gansey just hummed in response, and Ronan sighed. He was a head taller than Gansey, but it was still a struggle to lift him up and onto Gansey’s bed. Gansey wasn’t quite asleep yet, but he did absolutely nothing to help the process. Ronan swore under his breath softly. 

Once he was situated, Ronan crawled into the bed after him. 

“Is this okay?” He asked the question again. All of his confusion and anger at being pushed away earlier was gone, now that he knew Gansey wasn’t disgusted by him or his presence. But it was still too fresh in his mind, and Ronan needed to ask. 

Gansey didn’t answer, but he flug his arm over Ronan, eyes closed and already on his way to sleep. 

A warm smile spread over Ronan’s face, and he settled in for a night with no sleep. He had no plans to leave Gansey, not now, and not ever. In the morning, they would have to have an actual talk and figure out what the were going to do, and what Gansey was going to be comfortable doing. Ronan still didn’t exactly know what this was, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do whatever Gansey wanted from him, nothing more and nothing less. 

As Gansey breathed in and out slowly, Ronan gently reached over and grabbed Gansey’s phone off of his nightstand. He unlocked it and turned the brightness down, before googling how to properly deal with panic attacks.  

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my second fic for trc, so please let me know what you think? Also, there has been a request for a follow up fic where Ronan confronts the elder Ganseys so let me know your thoughts on that too? For now, this is complete, but I could be convinced. Thank you for taking the time to read this!


End file.
